Trust? It's Overrated
by Eyes for Eternity
Summary: Zee's life is different beyond compare. New name. No parents. New accomplishments. She's just started summer break, but gets some shocking news. She'll be going back to her old life in D.C. But someones waiting...for her. Sequel to Life and Times.
1. Chapter 1

**I know I'm being a jerk. I know I promised to finish LAWKI after life and times. I know I'm going back on my word. I'm sososososososososososososososososososo sorry. Really! I wanted to start the next chapter, but I got writers block. The only thing that would come to me is...well...this. So I'm going to TRY to work on both at the same time, and finishe Life As We Know it. Try. But anyway, here's the sequel! Hope you guys like! Make sure to review! And tell your friends! Thanks! Keep writing! Peace!**

**~Eyes for Eternity**

Trust? It's Overrated.

*~*

Name: Zarah Jane Goode

Age: Thirteen

Birthplace: Washington D.C., USA

Parents: Nathaniel Lynn

Jennifer Lynn (deceased)

Nickname: often referred to as "Zee"

Known Codenames: Night Owl, Nightingale

Known accomplishments:

-Programmed the Pentagon's most successful firewall at age eleven

-Successfully broken the NSA's firewall to find pictures of birthday present at age five.

-Been in the most advanced elementary school in the country since age six

-Noted pavement artist

-Successfully lost tails from the Circle of Cavan at age nine

-Gave a fourth grader a concussion for making a rude remark at her, age seven

-Learned about her parents' real careers without assistance at age five

-Recently accepted into the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women

-Proved Nathaniel James Lynn, alleged double agent, guilty in the murder of her mother, Jennifer Alyssa Lynn

New record. New name. New accomplishment. I guess I was a new person, right? Wrong. I was me, just all the anger and hatred overcame anything else. Everyone was an enemy, allies didn't exist. I didn't do tech work for the CIA anymore. Or M16. Or NSA. FBI. M15. The Pentagon. Secret Service. Gallagher. Blackthorne. President. Nobody would get anything out of me. Maybe because they could use it against me. Maybe, because I had nothing left.

I walked down the hall, keeping an eye on the guard that was "escorting" me to Nathaniel. Nathaniel Lynn. Alleged murderer, double agent, mole, disruptor of the peace. Some say he's my father. I say, how so? Do true fathers go around murdering their children's mothers? Do real fathers give their children reputations of traitors? And if he were my father, wouldn't I have his last name? He killed my mom. I'm known as a POI, traitor, and scumbag all at the same time. My name is Zarah Jane Goode, like my brother, not Lynn, Nathaniel's last name. Some say he's my father. I say, he's my enemy.

My "escort" stopped in front of a thick metal door. He slid a key card in, punched in a few numbers (28746 to be exact) and placed his hand on a scanner. The door clicked unlocked, and the guard pushed me inside. He locked the door behind me.

"Hey, Zee," Nathaniel said, grinning like the imbecile he was. I glared.

"Hmm, strange. I remember letting only friends and family call me Zee. Which makes a total of…seven people with the clearance. My seven only friends. Only. Friends. And you aren't one of them," I spat, voice cold. He smiled.

"I'm family."

"Since when?"

"Since a night in Vegas." Okay. So that was just a very…very…very disturbing image. Ugh…

"Well, you haven't been family since you brutally murdered my mother," I said, matter-of-factly. He just smiled.

"Why, yes I have, Zarah Jane Lynn," he said.

"I'm sorry, there is no one in the room who goes by that name. I'm Zarah Jane Goode, though," I said.

"They agreed to the name change…" he muttered under his breath.

"Why yes, yes they did. Now I'm tired of wasting time with this. Let's cut to the chase, shall we? You killed Jennifer Alyssa Prescott Lynn a total of sixty five days ago. All we want to know, Mr. Lynn, are your motives and allies. Let's start with motives," I said.

"And why would I want my daughter dearest to know why I killed her mother?"

"I'm not your daughter."

"I never said I was talking about you." That didn't mean…I wasn't an only child?

"You're bluffing," I insisted. He had to be. I didn't have siblings…I just couldn't.

"Zarah, you've seen me bluff. I'm terrible at it."

"You're a spy, you're bluffing." A buzzer sounded, and the door clicked open. Mr. Masters was standing in the doorway, looking very, very hostile. He motioned for me to follow, so I got up and we walked down the hallway.

"Ms. Lynn-"

"That's not my name."

"Ms. Goode. There is a month left of summer vacation, and you will not be staying at Gallagher anymore. You'll be living in foster care until graduation starting tomorrow. I suggest you get your things ready, you're leaving tonight," he said.

"But it's just for a mont-"

"You've been expelled from the Gallagher Academy." I've been what? Expelled? And where does he imply I'll be going?

"Why exactly have I been expelled?" I demanded. He stopped, and turned on me.

"Because you are officially a Person of Interest, and a threat. We can't risk you learning any more than you already know. So, you'll be living with my wife, daughters and I. Pack." With that, he left me standing stunned in the middle of the hall. I. Was staying. With. The Masters family. Kody's family. And with his twin sisters, who couldn't pass the general test to get into Gallagher. May I just say something?

Life sucks.

**You guys like it? Well, the green button is calling you! Click it! Just finished Max Ride one. LOVED IT!!! But GG beats it a million times. Keep writing! Peace!**

**~Eyes**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hihiz! Well, here's chapter two. Hope you like it! Peace!**

**~Eyes for Eternity**

Trust? It's Overrated.

*~*

They gave me my legend when I got to their house. While staying with the Masters', I would be…goth. That's right, goth. Maybe they wanted to keep me from making allies? Who knows. But, I did get to go shopping for my new black wardrobe…with Macey. Shopping. With. Macey. For someone who doesn't exactly like shopping in the first place, shopping with Mace should be like being put through hell. But I had to be a goth…in which case Macey was about the most helpful thing in the world. If you saw her, she kinda has experience in the goth/punk section of fashion. And I actually got to help pick out some outfits. Macey NEVER let's her…patients choose their own clothes. It made me feel quite special.

"Here, go try this on," she said, throwing a black mini-dress over the top of the stall.

"Macey, I'm pretty sure I have to be able to wear these at school…this is really short," I said, eyeing the culprit in all it's shortness.

"That's why you're wearing skinny jeans under it," Macey replied, throwing jeans over. They landed on the bench behind me. I slipped both numbers on, and stepped out of the stall. She nodded approvingly, and handed me another outfit.

Fifty seven and a half outfits, one formal gown, thirty pairs of shoes, sixteen purses, and twenty three pairs of sunglasses later, I was carrying five shopping bags through the parking lot. Macey had ten. The chauffer had seven. And Macey's personal bodyguards had five each. She has about ten personal bodyguards. Half of the limo was taken up with what wouldn't fit in the trunk, and Macey's black MasterCard was maxed out for that month. Now, Macey did get some stuff for herself…if you count two tops, one mini-skirt, and an umbrella "some stuff". The rest…was for me.

The limo drove straight from the mall to the Masters' mansion in east DC. Once we arrived, agents and guards swarmed around the car, carrying the bags up to my new room. Macey came with me into the house (which was more like a palace) and went to make sure I organized my closet right. My only question: Why must belts be put precisely three inches away from shirts, which had to be exactly one centimeter away from shoes?

"Have fun being normal," Macey said, as she walked out of the room. I smiled sarcastically, and plopped on the queen size bed. The black silk covers ruffled at the impact, and the turquoise pillows bounced a bit. The whole room was goth-themed, just like my new personality. Dark purple walls, black carpet, dark turquoise and black bed dressings, dark medieval theme furniture, dark everything. Even the bathroom was mostly black. It was kind of disturbing. And, to match my newly acquired dwelling, I had to act dark, mean, scary, and anti-social. Regardless that I was never the bright, nice, happy, social type in the first place. Zarah Jane Goode was no more. No, Alyssa Leah Masters had taken her place.

School was supposed to start the next day. And I had a few hours to master "the perfect eyeliner technique" as Macey liked to put it. She actually left me a manual on punk/emo/goth makeup. And fifty pencils of eyeliner. And twenty tubes of mascara. And lots of generally dark makeup. Oh, don't let me forget the purple hair dye. She expected me to dye my hair. Yeah…and I thought I might be able to get off with just a black tee shirt and dark jeans.

The night ended with my brown hair dyed with purple and black streaks, three out of fifteen pairs of grey contacts lost in the depths of the carpet, my nails black, and me in black and purple Happy Bunny pajamas. I fell onto my bed, and drifted into dreamland, no matter how corny that sounds.

*****

Have you ever woken up to ice? Just someone pouring ice onto your subconscious body? It is not pleasant. Especially when you know that the alleged ice-pourer could kill you seven differing ways with one ice cube. Or when they used to be in the army, and therefore feel the need to do that weird six AM trumpet alarm. Or when you get the trumpet alarm right next to your head as the ice is poured. Let's just say that it wasn't the best morning. At. All.

I finished my makeup, grabbed my bag, and ran downstairs to where the limo would be waiting. To take me to public school. Limo. Public school. They really wanted to make me look like a freak, didn't they?

I walked through the thick glass and metal doors at the front of the school, my short dress swishing at my sides. People stared. Big shocker there, huh? I made my way through the halls and to the principal's office.

"Ms. Masters, I assume," he said as I stepped into the room. I nodded, giving no expression whatsoever. He nodded, and motioned for me to sit in one of the chairs before him. I sat down, and he sat behind his desk.

"Here are your schedules and maps," he handed me a packet of paper, "I hope you like it here. Good luck," he finished, gesturing for me to leave. I got up, and walked to my first class. Algebra. This would be easy. I passed three doors on the left, turned left once, then right, then passed seven doors on the right before coming to a stop at the eighth grade algebra classroom. I reached for the handle, only to be stopped by it being pulled open by a boy. He had short blond hair, grey eyes, thin lips and an athletic build. Basically anyone could call him a hottie.

"I'm Josh," he said, holding out his hand. Wow. What a coincidence. That was Cammie's civilian boyfriend's name. Hmm. In fact, he looked just like Abrams too. And guess what? When we walked in and sat down, there was a Dr. Pepper bottle filled with water on his desk. Coincidence? I think not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hihiz everyone! Mkay, so I know it's been forever since I updated. But, as any of my members know, we've been having some...issues with some certain member(s) on the site. So I've been busy with that. Plus, school just started earlier this week for me, so I've been busy with that too. Otherwise, I've just been really lazy lately, and in writers block. I know exactly what's happening from here on now, so updates should be quicker.**

**So, anyone reading Mixed? It's off of hiatus now. I am happy 8-D **

**Keep writing! Peace!**

**~Eyes/Zarah (gallagheracademy. ning. com)**

Trust? It's Overrated.

*~*

Algebra passed quickly. Well, for me. I had to fake having trouble to look normal, and not like the genius I technically was. After that I zoomed through PE, Biology, and History. Then it was lunch.

Most the time it's normal for new kids to be crowded with offers to sit at lunch tables, and be quickly claimed into a social group. Not if your cover was freaky goth girl. Nope, I got to sit alone at the back of the lunchroom until lunch was over. Honestly, I was perfectly fine with that. There I could work on my Gallagher summer assignment to further research Einstein's theory of relativity. Provided none of the teachers notice.

About five minutes before lunch was over, I dumped my tray and marched over to "Josh"'s table. I glared at him, and motioned for him to follow. He smirked, and his "friends" 'ooh!'ed and laughed. He followed me out into the hallway outside of the lunchroom. I cornered him to a wall, and scowled.

"Why aren't you at Blackthorne? OR your house? What is going on?" I demanded.

"Well, Zee, don't you think it would be a little awkward living in the same house as your boyfriend?" he said. I scrunched up my nose and made a disgusted face.

"I don't like you. Even ask Macey. Why aren't you at Blackthorne?" I continued. He smirked.

"I'm here to keep an eye on you," he said. Seriously? They distrusted me that much? The second I got my hands on Nathaniel Lynn I swear…

"Uh, Zee?" Kody asked. I snapped my head up and glared at him.

"Don't call me that, _Josh_. You'll blow my very suckish cover," I said. He smirked.

"Oh, I don't know. I certainly like this cover. Goth clothes designers don't waste time on much fabric, do they?" he said. I subtly tried to pull the hem of my dress further down, self-conscious of it's shortness. Regardless of the fact that I had thick tights on under it. I contemplated giving him a Juandarvez maneuver, but there were civilians everywhere. Plus it involved kicking, and as I said, the dress was very, very short. Lucky for him, the bell rang, and we had to go to class.

I didn't see Kody for the rest of the day. He wasn't in any more of my classes, and I didn't see him when I got picked up in the front. He magically disappeared. The ride from the school to the Masters house was short. I stepped out of the limo, and was immediately swarmed by agents and guards. You'd think I was the president's daughter or something! Although then they would be there to protect me. But they weren't. They were there to protect America from me. Yeah, a thirteen year old could definitely destroy the world, couldn't they? I wasn't THAT capable. But I was close.

I hurried up the stairs and into my room. I sped through my homework, and wiped my makeup off. Then I got on my laptop (which had any hacking systems, encoding programs, or anything Mr. Masters found as a threat disabled, to my dismay.) and checked my email. My encoded seven times, impossible to hack, not visible on any website, email. There were three unread messages from Gallagher.

_Night Owl,_

_How's normal school? Um…easy? Fun? Anything? LOL. Have fun…maybe…?_

_~Chameleon_

_Zee,_

_How's D.C.? Hope they aren't making it too boring for you. I mean seriously, you have to stay with the Masters? I'm so sorry! Maybe they'll let you come back…someday? Huh. Well, Cassie's become more…social. And she apparently got some new designer eyeliner…fun. Caitlin…yeah. She's become even more pink-obsessed, if that's humanly possible. LLC. So…bye._

_-Kelli_

_Cuz,_

_Like the wardrobe? You'd better. And you'd better be wearing it. I swear, I'll make Liz get NSA tracking on you if you went shopping again. I'm sorry Zarah, but you just have terrible fashion sense, and definitely can't choose appropriate clothing for a goth girl. So as said before, you'd better be wearing it all. Bye!_

_Love your dearest cousin, Macey McHenry_

And of course Macey's consisted of clothing advice. And Kelli's…I wasn't quite sure to think about the Caitlin part. It was really kind of unhealthy how much she liked pink. But at least Cassie was done with avoiding everyone…I think. Come to think of it, I could really use some tips from her as far as my cover goes. She was about the only goth I'd ever met.

_*~*_

"I'm what!?" I demanded after hearing what Mr. Masters said.

"Ms. Lynn, you are going to the trial whether you like it or not. You insist so much on being innocent, plus many of our agents are, for some insane reason, on your side. You'll be proven guilty, and sent to a penitentiary," he repeated. They couldn't be serious!

"What makes you so sure I'm guilty! I've said it a million times, I'm innocent! The only guilt I have is by association, which I didn't exactly have a choice in, did I? I can't control who my parents are, or my family! I am innocent, whether you choose to accept it or not!" I yelled. I stomped from his office and up to my room. I dug around in the closet until I found a medium sized bag, and stuffed some of my old, non-gothic clothes into it. I put my cell phone and my laptop in too, and zipped it up. I had deactivated the cameras when I checked my email, but I went around to make sure they were all still off.

"I'm innocent," I mumbled to myself, locking the door to my room. As an extra measure, I put a chair up to the handle as well. Then I did what any resourceful spy would: I climbed into the vents of the mansion. It was either that, or jump out the window. And I was on the fourth floor, so that was pretty much ruled out.

I crawled through the vents, as quietly as I could manage. They were blaming a thirteen year old for a first degree murder. Regardless of how capable I may have been, was it technically legal to persecute a thirteen year old for first degree murder?

I finally reached my destination. The 'bank room' as Mr. Masters liked to call it. It was basically where they had the safes with all their cash. Why they had millions of government funding, in cash, in their house was beyond me. Maybe Masters was buying from the enemy, and was stupid enough to think he wouldn't be traced if he used cash? Who knows. But what I did know was that they should've put better security in.

I swung down out of the vent, and landed softly on the ground. I stepped over to one of the five safes, and began working the combination.

"Some CIA operative you are, Masters," I mumbled to myself. The lock clicked, and the door popped open. Twenty, fifty, hundred, and five-hundred dollar bills were stacked according to value, filling the space. At first I reached to get some five hundred dollar bills, but that would be very suspicious of a thirteen year old. So I ended up just getting a lot of twenties and fifties, ten hundreds, and one five hundred. I wasn't sure how long I'd be gone, or where I'd get more money from. Hacking a bank was out of the question, because that would send up a big, bright red flag for them to find me.

When I finished stocking up on money (I went past my better judgment and ended up with 300 tens, 300 twenties, 200 fifties, 10 hundreds, and 3 five hundreds. I also ended up with another bag in addition to my small bag of clothes and my laptop.) I climbed back up into the vents, and out of the mansion. From there, I ran.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hihiz! Well, here's chapter 4! I was in this huge unbearable writers block for the last week, so this was an epiphany written in 10 minutes flat. Enjoy! Keep writing! Peace!**

**~Eyes/Zarah (gallagheracademy. ning. com)**

**The following feature presentation was brought to you by Eyes for Eternity Enterprises. Remember, we own Zarah "Zee" Jane Lynn/Goode. Nothing more. Ally Carter Co. owns everything else.**

Trust? It's Overrated.

*~*

I knew where I was going. I knew that there was a big chance I'd end up under 24/7 security for the rest of my life if I got caught. And I knew that there was no way in hell that they'd keep their mouths shut. But common sense and choice had decided to leave me long ago.

I checked my cell phone. It was seven at night. And I was on the side of the highway, running for everything I was worth. And there were still ten miles until I reached my destination. Choices: A) Keep running, B) Sleep on the ground, C) Turn around. C was automatically ruled out. A search team was without a doubt already out looking for me. I was surprised they hadn't found me already. I thought about B, but figured that my chances at exposure were high enough, I didn't want to get consumed by wildlife, get hit by a car, or sleep on the ground at all. So I kept running. And let me tell you, running from Washington D.C. to Roseville was very, very difficult, especially when you had three heavy bags weighing you down. So you don't think about it. You think about how the enemy is behind you, trying to catch you and put you in permanent isolated confinement. Or something along those lines.

By the time I got anywhere near Roseville, I was half asleep. And seeing as Gallagher was another two miles away, I was NOT planning on continuing. There weren't exactly many places to sleep. At all. But the closest place was a big park with a hedge maze. And that was the best place, unless I intended to walk up to some stranger's door and ask to be given a room for a night. Which I decided against. I crashed in the middle of the maze, in a gazebo, praying not to be caught by morning.

My plan ended up working. I woke up to birds chirping and squirrels scampering around the structure. It felt like being in some corny Disney movie. With my newly acquired energy, I continued on until I reached the front of Gallagher grounds. I carefully slipped around the field of vision of the security cameras, and into the passage that lead straight from outside to the dorms. I crawled through the passage, and came out in the middle of the Blackthorne dorms. Security was up, so they must've still been there. I shuffled to a camera blind spot, and pulled out a frequency scrambler. The switch clicked on, altering the cameras to give me five minutes of free movement. I walked over to Zach's room, and picked the lock. One would naturally see entering a teenage boy's room as a dangerous situation, full of toxic gas and possible land mines. Luckily, this was Blackthorne we were talking about. One hair out of place and they went all neat freak.

I pushed my bags under one of the beds, and hid in a closet. I was here, might as well scare them right? Or at least Grant. Grant was one of the most gullible fraidy-cat spies I'd ever known. No he was the ONLY gullible fraidy-cat spy I'd ever known. Why he was still here, I'd never know. I scanned the room for bugs, but couldn't find any. There was about half an hour left until everyone came back to their dorms from class. I'd just realized how hungry I was. But I guess after almost twelve hours spent walking with no food, starving was a common side effect. Luckily, most of the dorms had mini-fridges in the rooms. And Zach, Jonas and Grant apparently had a liking for Dr. Pepper, chocolate pudding and Doritos. And I was completely fine with that. But they'd have to go shopping soon…

I was lying on the floor listening to my iPod when I heard footsteps coming, and then the door handle opening. My eyes shot open, and I sprung to my feet, earbuds ripping away and falling to the floor. The door swung open, and it's a bit awkward when your god-brother and his two friends attempt to tackle you the moment they step in the room. But the awkwardness dissolves into amusement when you step out of the way and they fall to the floor. Yes, that is very amusing. They all got up and stared at me.

"What the…!" Grant began to shout. But I tackled him and pinned my hand over his mouth before he could say more.

"Shut up you imbecile! I'll get caught!" I whisper-yelled. Then he bit my hand and I scrambled away, wiping my fingers on my shirt.

"Zee, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at the Masters'?" Zach demanded. I rolled my eyes.

"And why would I willingly stay with a family that makes my cover some freaky goth girl, confines me to my room whenever I'm at the house, takes away my hacking, and plans on sending me to court on accounts of first degree murder of my own mother? Much less spend time at a simpleton public school with a boy who is more or less obsessed with me? Please, enlighten me," I snapped.

"They can't be serious. You'd be able to do it, but you'd never bring yourself to a first degree murder. Second degree, probably, but not first," Zach said. Wow. Look who wins brother of the year award. I glared at him.

"Yeah, blah blah blah. Get the girls in here," I said.

"Which girls?" Grant asked.

"Hmm, I wonder. The Gilmore Girls. Cammie, Liz, and Bex, you idiot!" I snapped. Grant looked taken aback. Whatever. I was NOT in the mood for any time wasting.

"I'll go get them," Zach said, leaving the room. I watched him leave, then motioned for Jonas and Grant to sit on the bed. They moved instantly. I glared at them. They looked back with terrified expressions. I hardened my glare, made it more cold and heartless. I swear, their faces went pale and their eyes got really wide with fear. It was really quite entertaining. I started pacing in front of them.

"Grant. Jonas. How's it been? Haven't seen you two in a while," I said, making my voice sound as sinister and maniacal as humanly possible. Next thing I knew they were making a beeline to the door, but got smacked in the face about two feet away. Zach had come back, Cammie and her girls in tow. I quickly made myself look as nice and innocent as possible, smiling sweetly. Cammie gasped, Liz looked completely shocked, and Bex, just smiled.

"Took you long enough," Bex said.

"How…you…and…" Cammie started stuttering.

"Masters has just about the worst security in the history of my life. It took less than a second for me to break the alarms, freeze the cameras, and crack the safes. And I was supposedly on the highest security in the country. If this is how they treat everyone on the FBI's Most Wanted list, it totally explains how the country's crashing," I said. It came out casual, like I were just talking about the latest fashion trend.

"FBI's most wanted?" Bex asked, sounding impressed. I nodded.

"I'm officially the enemy."

"That doesn't explain why you're back here at Gallagher…" Cammie said, trailing off.

"I'm pretty much on the run, with nowhere to go. Gallagher was the first place that came to mind that I wouldn't be treated like a complete traitor. I thought most of you would probably trust me," I said, shrugging. "By the way, where's Mace?"

"Tahiti," Liz answered. I nodded. It kind of figured.

"So, anyone have a clue as to where I can go?" I asked, forcing my voice to be as cheery and light as possible, given the current situation. Everyone thought for a moment.

"You could just stay here." Too risky. The agency would have agents all over here, plus there were hundreds of students who would happily turn me in for special recognition.

"Plain sight?" No. Winters wasn't very good, but he was better than that. Plain sight would be where they would look first. It was silent for a few minutes.

"Solomon's cabin?" Cammie suggested. It sounded good.

"Depends. Does the CIA know anything about it?" I asked.

"No."

"How high security?"

"Level seven clearance."

"Who's side is he on?"

**Ooh, (attempted) cliffy! Like the chapter? Hate it? Review, or may the Circle of Cavan steal you away in the night. And remember, OMZ means Zach Goode, not Efron, and LOL is overrated. Peace!**

**~Eyes for Eternity**


	5. Chapter 5

**HIhiz! Okay, so it's been forever since I updated. Well actually just about a week tops, but it feels like forever to me. So...yeah. Here's chapter five! It's kinda short...oh well. ALSO: Anyone at GA. ning, remember, get your character or writer forms in!**

**And everyone has to go to LOL Rebellion's profile. fanfiction. net/ ~ lolrebellion. We haven't posted anything yet, but the first chapter will probably be up around September 10 or so. Well actually no, but we'll probably post a summary up. **

**Hope you like it! Peace!**

**~Eyes for Eternity aka Zarah aka Sarah (gallagheracademy. ning. com)**

Trust? It's Overrated.

~*~

The next day, we launched operation SSRO. AKA Solomon Side Recognition Operation. Normally we would've just went on without a name, but Liz insisted on documenting the process, and needed a name for the file. We weren't very creative, but it didn't matter.

I was sitting in Cammie's room, in front of Liz's computer. We all had comms units secured to our heads, and Liz was in the library talking to Solomon. We would've sent Cam or Zach, but they always seemed to be the center of attention, not to mention rule-breakers. If Solomon thought we were trying to get info, he wouldn't expect Liz to get it out of him. She was gifted in the area of technological advances, but an interrogator, she was not. Not a very good one at least. She could keep and protect a secret, every Gallagher student could. But it would take forever and a day to find one out without some form of Taser or electrical equipment. Liz was tech wiz of all of the junior CIA training programs. Cammie was pavement artist. Zach was liar. Bex was fighter. Tina found the secrets, Mick was weapons person. And everyone else was…well, everything else. Everyone had one main skill that made the agency keep them, instead of kicking them to the curb the second week in. And believe me, the CIA has dropped more operatives and trainees than I can count. Being able to count to one-million without stopping (it was kind of a required skill to be able to count to unfathomable amounts) that's a lot.

"So, Ms. Sutton, was there anything you needed to talk to me about?" Solomon questioned.

"Well actually yes, Mr. Solomon. I'm just a bit confused on the whole thing about Zarah Lynn," she said. My fingers clenched into a fist at the sound of my former name, but it didn't make a difference. It was all part of the plan.

"There are definitely enough reasons to be confuses, Sutton," Solomon replied, chuckling.

"Well…what do you think about it? Who's side are you on?" she asked. A minute passed before he gave the answer.

"Both sides are logical. The CIA has facts, but I seriously doubt a Gallagher Girl, regardless of what their parents are accused of," he said. Then he added, in a whisper, "Masters jus took on too much this time." Lis waited a bit, pretending to contemplate what he had said. Then she turned and walked towards the door.

"Thanks, Mr. Solomon," she said as she stepped out of the room.

"So this means I'm good? If I get caught I'll most likely not be killed on the spot?" I asked the others. We were gathered around the computer, replaying the whole scene.

"Probably. And he won't be up there until at least summertime, so he'll only catch you if the cameras do," Cammie said.

"Well, I should get ready then, shouldn't I?"

*~*

I was walking back down the hall from Zach's room, to go say goodbye to Cammie and her girls. From there I would take a plane to DC, and then driven down to the opening of the national park where Solomon's cabin was. Then I had to walk. And after spending two days walking slash running from DC to Roseville, I wasn't so thrilled. But it was just one mile.

I had just passed the Hall of History, when I heard a sound. A footstep. I spun around, just in time to see a black clothed figure slapping a Napotine patch on my forehead.

*~*

I had been caught. And knocked out. Since when did I _ever _get caught? I quickly snapped into a sitting position, and took in my surroundings. I expected a bare metal cell, one light hanging from the ceiling, a heavily guarded metallic door, and a vent that would make the perfect escape.

What I got was the Gallagher headmistress' office, and voices coming from the hall outside.

"We have to call them. It's the Most Wanted, Gallagher will be history if they find out!"

"We can't tell the CIA. This is a thirteen year old kid we're talking about, and they're accusing her of first degree murder! Masters has either finally lost it, or just hates Zarah. You and I both know that she's innocent. Capable of it, but she wouldn't kill her own mother. She's not an idiot."

"She came to Gallagher. And she escaped the highest security in the history of the agency. Zarah Jane Lynn is, without a doubt, the best. And that's why she'll get out of this, Rachel. She's not an idiot, no. She'll pull the facts and save herself. And besides, Masters is the only one who believes his little theory. The judges are smarter than to send a little girl to a penitentiary. We can't just keep her here. They'll just take her the moment they find something fishy. If we send her on the run, she can conjure up the proof she needs. Gallagher is already the hotspot for the search party, so we'll have to get her far away. Start thinking. They'll be here by tomorrow, so we've got to get rid of her now."

Solomon and Morgan. They were apparently on my side, and were going to help me. I got up from the sofa, and crept towards the door. I slipped into the hallway, and came to stand behind the two. They were apparently done talking, and just stood there, staring into space. I decided to break the boring silence.

"So where am I going?"


	6. Hiatus

HIATUS NOTICE

Mkayz. So I'm doomed. I have this terrible, crappy writer's block, and I can't get rid of it. So this story is officially on hiatus. I have no idea when I'll start it again, but it will not be updated this month. Even if I do get out of the block, finals are coming up and I have to get in the AP classes if I want any chance at getting AP/honors classes in high school. I can't really guarantee anything in June either. I've got a crapload of crap then too. I really just have no dates set for when I'll start writing again. Sorry :-(


	7. Announcement

**So, uh, I have a rather important announcement.**

**This, along with all my other Gallagher Girls stories, is on permanent hiatus.**

**Why?**

**1. That writers block I have? It's been going on since January. My ability to write has long since left me. I've begun to fear for the worst. (Whatever 'the worst' would be...)**

**2. My computer crashed, deleting ALL my document files. Which means that I've lost any new chapters I might've started, any story idea docs, everything. Mix that with the whole writing block thing, and I'll basically be taking the story and continuing from scratch, because after half a year, I remember nothing about where the stories were supposed to go.**

**3. I read OGSY. Which shouldn't be a problem, right? Not exactly. You see, even if I WERE to continue from scratch, everything already written wouldn't be canon with OGSY, so I'd have to continue the story pretending OGSY never happened, when it did happen. So I'll always be telling myself, "No, can't write that, it gets contradicted in OGSY" and then go "Wait, no, I have to write that, because OGSY didn't happen in the story". I'd drive myself, and probably everyone else who's read OGSY, insane with all the contradictions. A lot changes in Only the Good Spy Young that would ruin the story if I took it into account.**

**4. I have to read To Kill a Mockingbird by August for school credits. Usually I could finish it in a week at the most, but I tried reading it earlier this summer, and I find that for some reason it's a very frustrating book for me to read. If I knew why, believe me, I would've fixed it. I think it might be because it's based on normal people, living in a normal world, not spy people, or people living in the future world. I really can't stand reading books about normal people. It seems really redundant. But anyway, I have to read it by August, and it'll take priority over writing. That's assuming I get out of my block in the next month.**

**So, uh, yeah. Not gonna delete them, because I can't stand the thought of absolutely and completely abandoning them to the point where I actually lose them forever, but I'm not going to even spend my time trying to continue them anymore. If you like a plotline and would like to continue it, message me and we'll talk.**

**So yeah. Sorry. But I can't count on myself being able to write again for a long, long time.**

**~Sarah**


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